The Long Road
by Hecthorn
Summary: As the Warden denies the ritual to her, Morrigan is furious on him and leaves Redcliffe Castle immediately. This is the story of what happens to her on her long Road from Redcliffe to Orlais.
1. Chapter 1

**The Long Road – Morrigan's tale**

**Chapter 1 – As the raven flies**

"No, I will not reconsider. The answer is no."

"Then **you** are a fool!"

"I will not stand by and watch you waste this opportunity. Die, if you feel it is worthwhile or be overshadowed. I can't."

"Please, don't do this. Don't go."

I would that I could have helped you. That is your doing however, and not mine. Fare you well, my love. Should you live past tomorrow, I trust it will only be with regret."

Furious about him and herself, she left the room.

She walked only at a slow pace, her heart telling her to turn around and to spend the last hours of the night with her love before he would sacrifice himself in the fight against the archdemon. She risked a glance back to the fire, to where her beloved stood.

He didn't look after her. Instead, he remained staring into the flames of the fireside. They were burning every inch of the wood pieces, as if eager to destroy every single one of it.

It seemed to her that her heart was currently doing the same to her brain.

_Stay with him._

But she forced herself to withstand the urge to turn around and walk back.

He had made his decision.

As had Morrigan.

And both would now have to bear the consequences.

Morrigan slipped out of the wooden door, turning immediately into the shape of a grey wolf.

Whilst she ran down the hallway, her thoughts were still circling around what had just happened. The only love, the only person she had ever allowed herself to have feelings for, important feelings that went beyond a normal friendship, had denied to lay with her.

He refused to become the father of a child that he would never see and that would have nothing of him in its features, for it would be the incarnation of an ancient god.

That was the true reason why she was sent with him and why Flemeth had rescued him from the Tower of Ishal.

Much had changed since these days, although it had happened less than two months ago. So much had changed within this short time span. She had allowed her feelings –her heart- to start thinking and its thoughts had grown louder and louder, until it swallowed the voice of her brain, the rationality that was given to her by her life in the Wilds. And now she was in a position she had never wanted to get into.

She regretted leaving him back there, in his room doing nothing but staring into the flames.

The hate on herself grew with every step of the wolf.

For the first time in weeks, her brain spoke loud enough to drown the voice of her heart in its sound.

_The ritual was the only reason why you followed him. He denied it to you. You've done your duty. Leave. Go your way, but do not allow this man to drag you into desperation. He isn't worth it. _

Still running, the wolf transformed again, this time into a raven with feathers as dark as the night. With only a few strokes of its wings, the bird rose to the hallway's ceiling and flew through a wide crenel out into the night.

Morrigan left the relative warmth of the castle, trading it for the cold night outside. Her thick feathers prevented her from freezing. The sky was clear, enlightened by the moon and an uncountable amount of stars. All this light was reflected by the waters of Lake Calenhad, who stretched out right beneath her wings.

She allowed a cold breeze to carry her north, away from Redcliffe Castle to the center of the lake.

The flight was refreshing to Morrigan, giving her an unthinkably great feeling of freedom. Although her thoughts sometimes returned to her heart, which she had apparently left behind in her beloved's bedroom.

She felt even more liberated as she had with Flemeth in the Wilds. Morrigan was on her own now. Completely.

There was no Flemeth.

There were no other persons.

Up here in the air, there was only her mind.

It told her to go anywhere, as long as it was out of Ferelden and away from this Grey Warden she had –no, still- loved.

So where should she go?

Back into the Wilds was not an option. Although she was dead, slain by her beloved to protect her, the soul of her mother probably still lurked through the woods, searching for a new body -no, a new hull- to live in. And as she preferred to choose the bodies of her daughters as her next physical incarnation, it was a bad idea to return there.

With this said, only North and West remained.

North, over the Waking Sea to the realms Nevarra and Tevinter.

West, beyond the Frostback Mountains into the empire of Orlais.

The raven started to circle above the lake. Redcliffe Castle was nothing but a slight silhouette at the horizon, far off her current location.

Her mind had finally succeeded in telling her heart that the end of her relationship to him was not her fault, that they weren't separated because she left him alone just a few hours ago. Slowly, her cold rationality returned again.

Why not Orlais?

The home of the Chevaliers and the Chantry was surely worth visiting. Leliana had often spoken of many intrigues at the Orlesian court, so a witch might be of use for some members of the nobility.

And if it didn't fit her, she could still move on to another country.

But for now, she had to land on some solid ground. She could not transform into a fish and her powers were slowly drained from her.

Keeping her body in the shape of a raven was one thing, but keeping it up for such a long time when flying through the air was far more exhausting.

Not to speak of the horrible urge to scratch her plumage with her spout. In fact, this urge was driving her mad.

Three hours as an animal were definitely a time too long. With every second, more of the human mind of the sorcerer was absorbed by the habits and thoughts of the animal he or she had turned into. There even existed myths and legends about mages that were unable to transform back into their human bodies after staying an animal for too long.

One of those myths told about a jealous woman named Loriana. It was said that, hundreds of years ago, she married a beautiful man, a man who always had other women around him that did obviously not understand why he had married her, for she didn't belong to the beauties of the village. Loriana looked to it with anger and grief, feeling worthless and unwanted when they were around. Those feelings increased as the time passed, especially as it became clear, that she would never be able to give birth to children. As the village's druid had informed her about this horrible fact, she went into the woods every day, where she found an old which that was willing to teach her how to transform her body into a crow. After months of hard training, Loriana finally succeeded in transforming herself into a crow's shape and to use this body. From that time, she always followed her husband, wherever he went. One day, her husband joined had joined a merchant's trail as a mercenary. Out of fear he might leave her on this occasion, she changed in the crow's shape once more and followed the convoy, always watching even the slightest movements of her husband. He was unaware of being watched and as the time passed by, Loriana herself started to become unaware of the reason why she followed the convoy. Every day, she was more crow than human being and in the end, only the crow was left. And as her husband returned home, having earned enough money to bring them both through the coming winter, he found an empty hut with no one waiting for him.

And no one knew where Loriana had gone.

Flemeth had always told her this legend as she taught Morrigan how to take up the shape of different animals.

And she did not want to end like the woman in the myth.

The idea made her frown and the raven increased its pace.

Her mother had told her a plenty of useful things and skills. Morrigan had always been thankful for this, especially since this had given her the basic knowledge for all the spells she had learned when travelling with the Grey Warden.

After another three hours, the raven landed smoothly upon the western banks of Lake Calenhad. As soon as one of his spiked toes had reached the muddy ground, he changed into a beautiful young woman.

The urge to scratch her feathers faded away slowly, whereas her human thoughts and beings hit her like the mighty blow of a blacksmith's hammer.

Once again, she thought of her love.

She could feel, that his last hours were approaching.

Morrigan sighed desperately.

How could she have allowed herself to have feelings towards any other being than hers?

She sighed again and turned around, looking at the lake.

The weak light of the dawning sun shone upon its surface, dancing on the waves. There was no sign of Redcliffe Castle at the horizon anymore. At her current location, horizon could barely be seen at all.

There was just water. Endless water.

Her stomach growled loudly and a hopeful smile appeared on her face. Perhaps here, so far away from him and his stubborn sacrifice, she would manage to get over him.

But now, it was time to get something to eat. The hours of flight had cost her much of her energy and she felt merely empty. Like she was unable to do anything until she had eaten anything.

Or until she had overcome her hopeless love to the Grey Warden.

For now, breakfast appeared to be the easier choice to fill the emptiness. And so she turned her back to the huge lake and stepped into the thick forest that covered the bank as far as she could see. To her surprise, there seemed to be no fishing villages directly at the lake. She wasn't eager to meet anybody at all, but this seemed nonetheless a bit weird to her, as humans tended to settle wherever they could.

But what did she care?


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 – The huntress and her prey**

Morrigan was hiking through the woods for over an hour now. The rising sun was spending only little light that was mostly swallowed by the leaves of the tall trees that stood nearly everywhere around her. She had walked in a western direction, the sun constantly being in her back.

When she was already hunting, she could as well connect this to her journey towards the Imperial Highway. And the path to this road led to the West, away from the lake.

She planned to use this ancient road to get directly to Orlais.

At least for as long as it wasn't too haunted by Darkspawn.

She didn't want to admit it to herself, but on her own, larger groups of Hurlocks and the like were difficult to defeat or to hide from. Other mages –like Darkspawn-mages- were able to see the true shape of a mage when he had turned in an animal's figure. So transforming granted no efficient way of hiding from them. And she didn't want to take up the risk of being discovered by a huge mass of those monsters.

She moved swiftly through the forest, causing not even the slightest noise. Her wooden staff was hanging across her back, fastened by a thin belt made from fine leather which allowed her to easily drag the staff if needed. In addition to this, she wore a small dagger that was well-hidden within a small sheath that was worked into one of her boots.

Morrigan also carried a rather heavy bag which was attached to another, broader leather belt. This one was slung across her other shoulder. She had bought it from the dwarven merchant Bodahn Feddic and had received a notable discount on it. The bag was good, carrying the weight of two heavy books –Flemeth's grimoires which the Warden had brought to her- and some Lyrium potions. That was all she carried with her, for she hadn't packed anything before leaving Redcliffe Castle.

A cold wind blew through the forest and made the leaves rustle.

Her body was tensed, her hands ready to throw an Arcane Bolt at whatever prey would be so misfortunate to cross her path.

Slowly, she moved on whilst her yellow eyes browsed the surrounding area for any sign of a living animal she could kill and eat.

Her stomach growled once again.

She had eaten nothing since noon of the last day because she had spent the afternoon to prepare the ritual, which had, in the end, never happened.

_Just because he…_

No.

She swallowed.

She would not allow herself to think about that mess for the days to come. It would just open wounds time and oblivion would heal soon enough. He wasn't worth bothering with anymore. He had refused to spend the night with her, and so he could as well die through his stubborn decision.

Time would heal the deep cut in her heart.

At least that was what her brain told her. And she liked to hear this, again and again, whenever her thoughts would come across this matter.

_Do not lose yourself in thought, Morrigan. You've got more urgent problems to deal with._

The witch shook her head and continued to move forward through the woods.

The ground was covered with old, rotten leaves and, in some places, the trunks of fallen trees lay across her path, offering a home to numerous insects and mushrooms.

Although those trees stood and lay far from the Korcari Wilds, she felt some kind of familiarity when wandering amongst them.

Morrigan allowed herself to take a deep breath.

Enjoying the odor, she went on again.

It smelled of all the other beings and things around her. Small bugs, many different kinds of mushrooms, the different trees, the birds sleeping in their nests high above her head….

And a faint foulness.

She froze immediately, her yellow eyes widening in shock.

Her lips silently formed the word that belonged to this deadly smell.

_Darkspawn. _

She browsed the gaps between the trees ahead of her. The breeze that carried the odor came from the south. The foulness in the smell grew with every second that passed. This group of Darkspawn was definitely too large to deal with it on her own. And her interest in losing her life by trying anyway was very small.

The witch turned north and started to run. Her steps were no longer small and cautious, but fast and comparably loud. Sometimes, she accidently kicked into some smaller piles of wood, throwing the rotten leaves into the air and slowing her down. Successfully avoiding to stumble, she jumped over several roots and fallen trees.

The run drained her energy even more, as she was already exhausted from the sleepless night and the long flight. Her breathing grew faster, as did her pace.

A loud roar cut like a knife through the noise of her steps and breathing into her ear.

They had discovered her. For an instant, she froze, for the roar was answered by many others behind her.

At least she wasn't encircled.

So the hunter had changed into the prey. Normally, Morrigan loved such rather sarcastic comments. But at the moment, it was she who was the prey and the idea vanished as fast as it had appeared.

The foulness in the air slowly started to become unbearable. She inhaled it deeper into her lungs with every single gasp. Morrigan didn't dare to risk a look back, but she was sure that the Darkspawn slowly caught up with her.

And she just grew slower and slower, her tiredness taking over her a bit more with every step.

Morrigan could sense a feeling she hadn't experienced for a very long time –if at all.

Fear was running through her body like a hot knife through butter. But still, her survival instinct drove her forward through the woods. She gained some kind of tunnel-vision, simply looking forth and running.

Running until she was caught or had escaped into safety. Whatever the case, she'd fight to her last breath.

The trees in front of her grew less dense, instead, she found several tree stumps around her. After a few additional steps she could hear the rush of a nearby river in front of her.

And there were shouts.

Human shouts.

She probably had discovered lumbermen-camp by fortune. Changing her direction, so that she ran directly to the source of the shouts, the witch pumped her last energy into her legs and managed to make a final push which increased her speed again a little bit.

She could see a larger camp only a few meters ahead of her. Its numerous tents were surrounded by a low wooden palisade and several sharpened stakes that were rammed into the ground so that they would impale every attacker who was foolish enough to come at them.

Smoke trails of several campfires rose high into the red morning-sky, where the wind carried them off to some different place far away.

As she came closer, she recognized that the camp was by far larger and too heavily fortified to be a simple campsite of some lumbermen. No, this was something bigger.

Perhaps a gathering of refugees that hoped to outlive the Darkspawn by hiding within this forest.

Or bandits.

Or mercenaries.

Or…

No matter whom this camp belonged. There were at least a few humans in there. And they would surely allow her into their walls.

The Darkspawn-rabble behind her roared again, this time incredibly loud and terrifying. The sound of their steps faded away. They probably wanted to gather up with some others of their rabble before they attacked the camp.

Morrigan's lungs ached and felt as if they were about to explode at any second, spreading her blood and flesh all over the place.

Some men dressed in common, linen-made cloths appeared on the palisade. Each of them carried either a large stone or a bow, ready to throw any kind of missile at the approaching enemy –or at her.

At least this wasn't a mercenary-camp.

With a few, desperate steps, she reached the small gate of the camp.

As soon as she was within the palisades, the gate was closed and locked with some huge trunks and a cart placed right behind it. Even if the Darkspawn managed to break through the gate, they would still have to break through this barricade.

Morrigan stopped immediately after passing through the gate.

She exhaled exhaustedly and collapsed onto her knees, supporting herself by pressing both of her pale hands into the brown dirt beneath her. Each of her muscles ached, her lungs cried for air. With every breath she took in, her mind became a little bit clearer, as did her view. The blur in front of her eyes slowly disappeared and although the foul smell of the Darkspawn corrupted the air in a horrible way. Her lungs burned even more with it.

But it also burned the symptoms of exhaustion out of her mind. Her thoughts got out of the instinct-driven scheme they had taken up as she had run for her life back into a rational shape. Taking her hands out of the dirt as she sat up, Morrigan was approached by an old woman as the air was filled with roars and battlecries again.

"What is a young woman like you doing lonely out there in the woods? Aren't you aware of the Darkspawn that are lurking around this camp?" said the woman in a strict voice.

The strict tone caught her by surprise. Morrigan had expected someone would ask her if she needed food or had some wounds that required treating. Not this.

_I thought my mother was dead. And now I got this old coot. _

She lifted her face up to the cloudless sky, her eyes searching for something she would never find up there.

"I'm not from here, old woman. What kind of camp is this?" Morrigan asked in a rather dry tone.

The old woman gazed at her as if she were from another planet.

"Where have you been the last few days? Haven't you heard anything about the villages of Geldering and Hothering being burned to the very ground?" the old woman asked surprised. The questions hung in the air between them and as the witch gave no answer, the woman started to explain:

"This campsite here is the last refuge to the survivors of the villages in the area. The Darkspawn drove them out of their houses, burning them to the very ground and butchering every being that was left behind. May the Maker watch over their souls. And now we will follow them into the realm of death!"

Her voice had grown more hysterically with every word.

Morrigan examined her desperate looks critically, sharing none of her hysterical and desperate feelings about the losses she must have faced. The fear for her life had vanished from her, leaving only the exhausted, tired and somehow desperate Morrigan she had become after the denied ritual behind.

"You! You stupid little girl lead them to our camp! You are responsible for the death coming upon us now!" she suddenly cried.

_Stupid little girl. _

Suddenly, the old woman was gone. Now Flemeth stood there, looking down on her.

Laughing.

At her.

Her face a joyous grimace.

She laughed at the feelings she had developed for the Warden during their journey, laughed at her disappointment as she was denied the ritual.

Laughed, although she should be dead, being nothing but an old ghost haunting the fade. She utterly regretted her decision to leave, but –after all- it was her decision, the decision of an independent woman.

And no one was to interfere with this decision.

Grim flushed through Morrigan and she rose up out of the dirt and mud she had sat in before.

_Stupid little girl. _

No one called her this. Not even her mother. She knew exactly what she was doing, always. Although the influences of love might have troubled these clear, calculating thoughts, she had to admit.

"The Darkspawn would have found this camp anyways. Do you really think you can hide such a huge camp from them? You fool!" answered the witch, fighting to keep her temper under control.

"You brought death upon us! You dirty witch! If it weren't for you, we would have outlived them. But now they will kill us!" hissed the woman.

_Witch. Normally she used to laugh loudly at the person calling her this. But this was different. _

To Morrigan, it was still her mother speaking to her.

The witch's hand clenched to a fist, the nails of her fingers gouging through her skin into her flesh. She felt the warmth of blood on her dirty fingertips. Before she recognized it, her fist had risen and stroke right into the hysterical women's –Flemeth's- face.

Screaming in surprise, the old woman fell into the dirt, sending a small fountain of mud up in the air.

Morrigan simply smiled.

It was a pleasant smile and she enjoyed it.

Satisfied like this, she opened her leather-bag, smearing the dirt that was still on her hands all over it. She'd have to clean it after the upcoming battle. Searching for one of her Lyrium potions, she dug one of her hands into the bag between the grimoires. She was trapped within this camp surrounded by the Darkspawn. So helping these people would also ensure her own survival. As her survival-instinct returned to her this time, it was controlled by her self.

It was time to kill some Darkspawn once again.


End file.
